An unappreciated passion, writing this stuff for emptied out ears, my own. Soul's still announcing its presence word by word, put this, no that, okay be in charge. If it feels somewhere in that middle, presents itself as authentic and in the moment, then there. Forgiving itself each time, too many commas, endings too blunt...oh well.
Finding the force deep within, where nothing original can push through until peace is made, within. Not without, fooled someone I'm sure. Keeping an eye on that seeker of truth, where suggestions are made, not thought out, just arising. Open health.
Where now in this privacy I can just listen and respond and allow it all to be right. Or correctomundo someone would resound if I let them. Lengthening thoughts now that an appeal has been made, done just standing around. Being stupid if I let it. I let it.
